Anne captured her hands, and gave them a gentle squeeze. “There is no reason to be sorry. If you did want to perhaps join me again at the Frost Fair and search for—”
Katherine’s laugh cut into her sister’s words.
“What?” Anne said, defensively. “We simply will not find the heart pendant unless we search for it.”
They would not find it, because Katherine had already lost it. What was worse was that Katherine was too much a coward to admit as much to Anne.
“Don’t you dream of love, Katherine?”
“I’m too practical to dream of love, Anne,” she said softly. She had. At one time. Back when she’d been a silly, naïve girl of fifteen years. Now, as a woman of nearly twenty years, a woman had nary a suitor, or any offers for her hand, and who’d had to convince the Duke of Bainbridge to wed her, well, the dream of love didn’t exist for ladies such as her.
“Well, that is very sad, then.”
Katherine opened her mouth to respond when a high-pitched cry interrupted her response.
The door flew open.
Katherine and Anne’s gaze swung as one toward the entrance of the room.
Mother stood at the center, her hand aloft, a scrap of thick velum in her hand. “It is not to be countenanced,” she cried.
Katherine and Anne exchanged looks. Mother’s theatrics were often best reserved for the stage, but when she was in such a state, it was wise to avoid her.
She stormed into the room. Her deep burgundy satin skirts slapped noisily against her legs. She stopped in front of them, and brandished the letter in her hand.
“A letter,” she cried. “The…the…gall of the man. He dares to notify me in such a manner.”
“Mother,” Katherine began.
Her mother silenced her with a single, black glare. “Not a word, Katherine. This is entirely your fault. It matters not that he’s a duke. He’s a shameful, scandalous man. The Mad Duke,” she muttered.
Katherine’s heart sped up. He’d spoken to her guardian. He must have. There was no other accounting for Mother’s fury.
Mother waved the paper about. “He’s not been seen by Society in years, and all those hideous rumors about him murdering his wife.” She shuddered.
Katherine stiffened. Fury lanced through her body. How dare her mother? Jasper was no more capable of murder than Katherine was capable of sprouting wings and taking flight. “That is unfair, Mother. He did not murder his wife.”
“Do you even know what happened to her?” her mother shot back.
Katherine rocked back on her heels…because, no, she didn’t. She did however, know with great certainty that whatever had happened to Jasper’s wife had been no fault of his. She was sure of it. “I do not. But neither does the ton.”
“You defend him!” Mother rang her hands together, crumpling the parchment in her fingers. “Oh, why, why, why did you go off to that fair? If you hadn’t then he wouldn’t have offered for you, and your uncle wouldn’t have said yes.”
Anne gasped. Her eyes widened, and she looked to Katherine. There was a hint of shocked hurt there. Katherine’s gaze slid away. As twin sisters they’d shared nearly everything. In this, Katherine had not deigned to mention her meetings with Jasper. It had just seemed too…too…intimate.
“The fiend won’t even allow for the banns to properly wed. He insists on a wedding posthaste. Why, he won’t even allow time for your sister and her husband to be summoned.” She threw her hands into the air.
“Oh,” Katherine said, flummoxed. She’d not given any thoughts to the details surrounding their nuptials. She’d imagined at least a private, intimate gathering with her family. The faintest little pang pierced her heart. What had she expected? Theirs was a match of convenience, nothing more. Yet…the tiniest, most infinitesimal smidgeon of her heart had dreamed of something very different than a hasty wedding without even her siblings present.
Mother sank down into the nearest sofa. Her skirts fluttered about her feet. She buried her head into her hands and shook it back and forth. “Now Anne’s Season will be hopelessly ruined.” Katherine balled her hands into tight little fists at her side. Yes, because that had always been Mother’s primary concern; Anne securing the most advantageous match.
As if she detected the subtle hurt, Anne reached over, and slipped her fingers into Katherine’s. She gave them a slight squeeze, and a smile of support for Katherine.
“Oh, I’m certain the connection to any duke will not hurt our place amongst the haute ton, Mother,” Anne said. She released Katherine’s hand and tugged free the paper in their mother’s hands. She skimmed the sheet. Her eyes widened. “What?” Katherine reached for it, but Anne shifted it away from her grasp, and continued to read.